


A Red Queen Black Friday

by Natthefantastic



Series: Red Queen Holiday Specials [1]
Category: Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Best Buy Chaos, Black Friday, Epic planning, Everything is way more intense than it should be, F/M, Farley and Ruth Barrow become besties, Furnishing an entire house in one day, Furniture Shopping, How much money can one blow in one day?, Humor, Protective Siblings, Shopping Malls, Target and Walmart Adventures, great deals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natthefantastic/pseuds/Natthefantastic
Summary: Who would be interested in a RQ Black Friday fanfiction special?I was thinking that it would take place post-Calore Dance Academy, IF Mare accepted Mister Calore's contract offer and bought a house. (however, you don't have to have read CDA to enjoy this fic) This intense Black Friday shopping spree would entail the RQ characters going out and spending tens of thousands of dollars to help Mare's family furnish their brand-new house. Sounds hilarious, right? Mare and Cal would be together in the fan fiction, and it would basically be as though everything was magically resolved. (for example, Cal and Farley could be in the same room and it wouldn't be weird) Maybe Maven and Thomas meet, and they pull some shenanigans at Best Buy? Perhaps Farley and Ruth Barrow balance one another out at Target and end up bonding? And most certainly do Mare's brothers give Cal a hard time at Walmart.*this fan fiction special shall be posted on Thanksgiving! In the meantime, please drop some comments to give me ideas about what you want and who you want to see. Keep in mind that the Barrows are furnishing a house from scratch. All characters are up for grabs!
Relationships: Mare Barrow/Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII
Series: Red Queen Holiday Specials [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047712
Comments: 16
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Who would be interested in a RQ Black Friday fanfiction special?

I was thinking that it would take place post-Calore Dance Academy, IF Mare accepted Mister Calore's contract offer and bought a house. (however, you don't have to have read CDA to enjoy this fic) This intense Black Friday shopping spree would entail the RQ characters going out and spending tens of thousands of dollars to help Mare's family furnish their brand-new house. Sounds hilarious, right? Mare and Cal would be together in the fan fiction, and it would basically be as though everything was magically resolved. (for example, Cal and Farley could be in the same room and it wouldn't be weird) Maybe Maven and Thomas meet, and they pull some shenanigans at Best Buy? Perhaps Farley and Ruth Barrow balance one another out at Target and end up bonding? And most certainly do Mare's brothers give Cal a hard time at Walmart.

*this fan fiction special shall be posted on Thanksgiving! In the meantime, please drop some comments to give me ideas about what you want and who you want to see. Keep in mind that the Barrows are furnishing a house from scratch. All characters are up for grabs!

Ideas: what stores

what products

what character combinations

what ridiculous things happen

what shenanigans are pulled

Here is a link to what I imagine the Barrows' new house looking like. It's in Long Island, which isn't far from Manhattan.  
https://www.redfin.com/NY/Cold-Spring-Harbor/27-Saw-Mill-Rd-11724/home/21247908


	2. Time is of the Essence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well people! Here is the fanfic that has been in the works for about two weeks! Thank you for all of your suggestions and support, as always. Ya'll know that I love your comments, so let me know what you think of this. I am debating whether or not I should start a one-shot book that would just include snippets of the Barrows' domesticated life. (eg more Bree/Tramy bullying Cal, fluff between various characters, vacations, home improvement, cooking lessons . . . I'm rattling things off. Let me know in the comments.)
> 
> A shout-out to @maraudersreject for being an amazing editor and taking the time this week to help me clean up A Red Queen Black Friday. As always, you are cherished by me. <3
> 
> I hope that despite the crazy year we're having, you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend.

"Time is of the essence."

My feet, clad in red and white-striped socks that I would usually call uncharacteristic of myself, pad from one side of the kitchen counter to the other. I can't help the grin on my face as I look out over my friends and family who all stand or sit around our near-empty living room.

The Barrows' newly-purchased, two-million-dollar house out on Long Island is a miracle in more ways than one.

In the end, I signed the Calore Dance Academy's contract. In exchange for ten years of my service, I'll be receiving three-hundred-thousand dollars a year plus a two-and-half-million-dollar bonus that came in advance. It might at first have felt like selling my soul to the devil, but over time, I realized that it was a better offer than I could've gotten at the American Ballet Theatre or the New York City Ballet. And besides, I get to dance with Cal every day.

But perhaps the crazier, most unbelievable half of the story is that my family of seven people, plus Kilorn, managed to agree upon a house to buy.

Bree and Tramy ended up being pickier than I ever imagined they would be. After living together in the same tiny bedroom together for years on end, they demanded that they each have their own room equipped with a bathroom. Mom pretended not to be particular about anything, but in the end, she showed her passive-aggressive side and demanded a fancy fridge in a kitchen that looked out on a big living room with lots of windows. Dad's only request, to my relief, was agreeing with Mom and saying he wanted _a big living room with lots of windows._ Gisa, on the other hand, was the worst of them all, dictating that she needed a special room for her seamstress work, a walk-in closet, and a balcony. And Kilorn, despite not actually being related to us, told me he wouldn't live with us unless there was a pool to swim in.

In response, I told him that he was a child and I didn't care if he lived with us anyway.

Still, Kilorn got his pool. Gisa, to her eternal dismay, didn't get her balcony. She was hardly about to argue about that though.

Our new house is on a quiet road that's just a few miles and a couple of turns from one of Long Island's bigger towns. There are plenty of other houses around, but each has a big-enough lawn so that they're not too close for comfort. Half a dozen of our neighbors, exactly the kind of suburban preppy people we were expecting, have already trekked over our circular driveway with gift baskets; Bree and Tramy, meanwhile, are already concocting schemes to mess with their white-picket-fence style lives.

The three-story house itself is a beautiful thing that Mom swoons over every time she sees it. Its siding is this pretty shade of pale green, which will mesh perfectly with the big trees and grass of our property in the summertime. It has a big porch and floor-to-ceiling windows, just like my parents wanted. Inside, among cream-colored walls and polished-wood, wait two living rooms with fireplaces, a dining room that looks out onto the street, and a kitchen. A mudroom, a laundry room, and a big empty room that we have yet to figure out what to do with are also around on the first floor.

One of these days I expect to catch Mom sleeping in the kitchen. It indeed has her fancy, double-doored fridge, along with two ovens, two dishwashers, numerous pristine cream drawers and cabinets, and a massive marble island.

Upstairs are five bedrooms, each with its own big windows and bathrooms. Gee, for all of five minutes, fought for the master bedroom, with its bathroom twice as big as our old bedroom and a walk-in closet that has its own hallway. Mom and Dad ordered her off to a different room, which still has its own bathroom and walk-in closet, and she licked her wounds for less time than she argued with them.

The basement has a second kitchen that I imagine Bree and Tramy will put to good use, along with a great big room that we'll shove a ping-pong table and flatscreen in. I've called dibs on the sole bedroom down there, similar to the other bedrooms of the house but in its own little world. I already joked that I'll shove Kilorn in the little room beneath the stairs.

And yet at the moment, our two-million-dollar house is mostly empty. We decided to part with our furniture from our East Harlem apartment, and there was little else we wanted to take with us.

It just so happens that I purchased a two-million-dollar house out on Long Island just a week before Black Friday. And I just so happen to have half-a-million to spare.

Thus, twenty-five people have all agreed to one crazy day of helping my family furnish our house in exchange for one crazy Thanksgiving dinner courtesy of Mom last night.

Among them include my entire family and Kilorn, Cal, Diana Farley, Evangeline and Elane, Iris Cygnet, Cameron Cole, the pairings of Julian and Sara and Davidson and Carmadon, and Tyton, Rafe, and Ella. The TikTok stars. Though Maven's not here yet, his flight from California delayed because of the snow in New York. I hear he's bringing his Stanford boyfriend, Thomas.

Shade's at my side, grinning along with me as he looks at the twenty-page handbook that "The Holy Trinity" has crafted. The Holy Trinity, as in the tasteful interior-design trio of Gisa Barrow, Evangeline Samos, and Maven Calore. Through extensive reviewing of blueprints, FaceTime calls, and spreadsheets, they've made interior design into a science that not even Kilorn could screw up. The list that Shade holds contains row after row and column after column of details about who's buying what.

"You all are pretty competitive people," I say, nodding to myself. I offer Evangeline, Farley, and Cal pointed looks. "You already know the rules. You'll be assigned to a team based on your strengths and weaknesses so that everybody, hopefully, compliments one another. Each team gets a list of what you're supposed to buy, and you have to buy all of it. Whoever comes back here tonight having saved the largest percentage of cash wins a special prize. Keep your receipts; I also need them so I can write your checks."

Shade, unable to contain himself any longer, pulls himself up onto the kitchen counter so that he can announce the teams. "Alright, people. As soon as I announce your team and hand you your list, you can get out of here." Shade pauses. "That is, if you can get past my fiancée's red F150 that's blocking the driveway. Stores open in an hour at six."

Farley, hand on her baby bump that's just beginning to show, grins at Shade. The games haven't even started yet and she's already manipulating things.

"Evangeline, Elane, Kilorn, and Cameron will be shopping for decor. You know, the glue of the home that brings the bigger things together," Shade quotes from the paper Maven emailed him. With Evangeline and Elane on the first team, Kilorn and Cameron won't have the chance to screw the glue up. From the corner of my eye, I see the latter two cringe.

"Julian, Carmadon, Davidson, and Sara will be hunting for household staples." The four adults, already sitting next to one another on the window seat at the far end of the room, chuckle amongst themselves as though they have the competition in the bag.

"Maven, Thomas, and Gisa will be hitting the furniture stores for the big items," Shade announces, and Gisa scowls for multiple reasons. Not only is the other two-thirds of her team late, but she's bound to clash with Maven over their _aesthetic differences_. She's already been fighting over the phone all week with him as they've planned out what's happening with our house.

"Diana and Mom will be going to Target to look for all of the kitchen things Mom could ever want."

Farley, who in spite of being engaged to Shade and newly-pregnant with Ruth Barrow's grandchild, pales. Mom, who sits near Dad before the fireplace we have running, does something similar.

Somehow, I think they're both scared of one another. Farley, wearing a leather jacket and cropped hair, still looks like a Scarlet Street Fighter. Ruth Barrow, on the other hand, has always looked like the mom that doesn't approve of her son's taste in women.

Without another word, trying to contain a wild, mischievous smile, Shade moves on. "Cal, Bree, and Tramy will be hitting Best Buy for all of our technology needs."

Cal, having assumed that he'd get to spend some time with me, crosses his arms and does his best to look comfortable. Still, his eyes go wide. Bree and Tramy glance at Cal from where they stand near me, eyeing him up. The two weeks that my family's known about the nature of my relationship with Cal haven't been easy on either of us. In the first place, Bree, Tramy, and Shade would prefer that I stay alone forever, but they especially don't like Cal. Not when he's the son of a billionaire.

Bree and Tramy smile, happy to have their shot at Cal. I wonder which one of the Holy Trinity put those three together.

"And lastly, Ella, Tyton, and Rafe will be going out to the grocery store and buying a whole lot of food," Shade announces rather excitedly, as though to convince the three that they have an exciting job at hand.

Instead, the TikTok trio just crosses their arms in sync. "What the hell?" Tyton asks. "They don't even have deals at grocery stores on Black Friday."

Shade authoritatively blinks back at him. "And as you can see, our fridge and cabinets are pretty empty, Tyton."

That leaves me, my brother, Dad, and Iris to clean up whatever messes the rest of the people in this house create today.

Julian, Carmadon, Davidson, and Sara are the first to grab their list from Shade, daring enough to get past Farley's monster of a truck and onto the road. Evangeline and Elane are right behind them, practically dragging their charges with them. Gisa rips her list from Shade's hand, going to wait by the door for Maven and Thomas.

Only do Farley and Mom get going when Carmadon yells at Farley from the mudroom to get her truck the hell out of the driveway. Ella, Tyton, and Rafe, in no rush at all, plop down on the floor and start typing at their phones.

Cal comes up to us, his accusing eyes flickering towards me. He snatches the list from Shade, keeping an easy smile on when Bree and Tramy are right behind him.

I smile sweetly at my boyfriend. "Happy shopping, Cal."


	3. Barnes and Noble and Buffalo Plates

Julian, Carmadon, Davidson, and Sara, who considered themselves the best team by far, had an easy job on their hands. Unlike Evangeline Samos and Maven Calore, they could get on the same page when it came to what color hand towels they thought Missus Barrow would like the most.

They spent an extensive amount of time in one of those Bed Bath and Beyond stores, where the four of them, so as to not anger the Holy Trinity, followed the provided list carefully and bought a variety of, well, bed and bath-related items. Half-off pillows and comforter sets, bathroom accessories, dinnerware, among a thousand other things now filled the trunk of Julian's small yellow car and Dane's SUV, and feeling confident in their progress, the quartet decided to take a break.

Carmadon rested his chin on his hand contemplatively as he stared down his Starbucks drink inside of the Barnes and Noble. After the torrent of middle-aged suburban women he faced at Bed Bath and Beyond and the awful, freezing snowstorm outside, he and his friends were happy to be in the sale-free warm oasis of a bookstore. Like everybody else, he hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep the night before, and the hot caffeine that slid down his throat was a Godsend at nine in the morning.

"I liked the plates with the buffalos on them. Did you see that sale?" he said for the fifth time that morning.

Dane rolled his eyes endearingly at his husband. "And like I've said four times, the list mentioned nothing about buffalo plates, Carmadon. Besides," he muttered, "I don't think that buffalo plates would suit Maven's aesthetic vision."

Julian, meanwhile, turned his head towards the aisles. Sharing a peppermint mocha with Sara and surrounded by thousands of books, he had no inclination to leave. "Does anybody in that family like to read?" he asked his friends. "We should buy them some books to fill those bookshelves that Gisa keeps droning on and on about."

Carmadon shrugged. "I suppose we could. It wouldn't hurt for the older brothers or that Kilorn boy to pick up a book once in a while."

The four, happy as could be with their fancy drinks in the quiet, near-empty bookstore, shared a good laugh.


	4. A Fish Boy and a Fashion Icon

Evangeline leered at her embarrassment-of-a shopping companion.

Kilorn Warren, in his ill-fitting jeans and oversized sweatshirt, looked rather pitiful compared to Evangeline and her girlfriend, in their designer, high-heeled boots, sleek leather pants, and fashionable winter coats. Cameron Cole, at least, had something going for her with her horrifically-ripped jeans, cheap studded belt, and Doc Martens. The strange black puffer jacket she had over it all, however, ruined whatever chance Cameron had of a decent outfit.

"Do you understand what you did wrong, Kilorn?" Evangeline asked her charge calmly.

And yes, he was most certainly her charge.

Elane, now making her way towards a display of lamps at the Ashley Furniture Homestore that Evangeline had grown to despise in the last half-hour, only smirked back at the two. Cameron had gone off in what would likely be another fruitless attempt to go pick out rugs for the Barrows.

Kilorn shook his head slowly, as if, Evangeline thought, time wasn't of the essence.

The two were standing in one of the many fake bedroom displays that the store had to offer, which was nothing more than two fake walls and a half-assed attempt at decorating. The inside of the space had a bed with pillows but no comforter, furniture thrown here and there, and too many unrelated paintings on the sunset orange walls. The bookshelves were used as places to store knick-knacks for sale, and with a couple of paces, she'd be in a living room, and with more, a dining room. The lights overhead, however warm they came across, were ready to give her a headache.

Evangeline tried to remind herself that this place was in fact a furniture store whose job it was to sell furniture—though if she had her choice, she'd be somewhere in Midtown Manhattan, where the people there actually knew what they were doing and furniture wasn't mass-produced.

Again, she also reminded herself that Mare Barrow wasn't nearly as wise nor as rich as her, so Evangeline would have to settle on what she and Maven had agreed to: a popular chain furniture store.

"You are looking for a painting that will go in the Barrows' dining room. The theme of the room is to be warm colors. Do you see what color that painting is?" Evangeline pointed accusingly at the bronze-framed painting on one of the walls. Not only was it an ugly, abstract painting of a seaside town centered around a lone man in a fishing boat, but the painting was almost entirely blue. Not to mention was it located in a bedroom, which made the whole prospect of sticking it in a dining room just wrong.

Evangeline was this close to snapping. How had she fallen so far that it was now okay to shop for mass-produced wall art?

Kilorn, scared of and pissed at Evangeline simultaneously, looked down at the carpeted floor.

It's not that they hadn't made progress. Evangeline and Elane had already racked up a hefty tab at the furniture store between the curtains, wall decorations, end tables, and accent furniture they had found and agreed upon.

Cameron, Evangeline could handle. At least the girl didn't apologize for not knowing what the hell she was doing, spending most of her time swiping at her phone while trailing Elane around as they went from one display room to the next. Kilorn, meanwhile, seemed to actually be embarrassed of his beyond-poor taste as he tried and failed again and again with the portion of their team's list Evangeline had offered him.

After a moment of staring Kilorn and his helplessness down, Evangeline sighed. "Alright, Kilorn. I get it," she said, trying to lower herself down to Kilorn's level. "This isn't your thing. Why don't you go take a break and sit down on one of the display couches?"

As much as her words probably sounded mocking, Evangeline wasn't kidding. After a late night of planning yesterday evening and an early trip to the stores this morning, Evangeline knew she wasn't the only one feeling the exhaustion that came with Black Friday. Still, she had to keep moving, keep competing with all of these other fools that roamed through the furniture store on the cheapest day of the year. "I'll just—"

She was cut off by a familiar figure that slipped around one of the fake walls and into the display bedroom. He was with Gisa and another man his age, and they just so happened to be wearing matching Stanford sweatshirts. All three of them were covered in melting snow.

Maven, although not starting his studies at Stanford until January, when the new quarter began, had taken the liberty of leaving New York the month before. After the drama between him, his brother, and Mare, he had left the city like a bat out of hell, happy to graduate high school early and get situated on the opposite side of the country. He wouldn't move into a dorm until January, but Evangeline supposed he had already found a roommate in this Thomas kid that stood next to him.

"Maven," Evangeline greeted the younger Calore brother, extending her arms out in mock welcome.

Maven's smile told her everything she needed to know.

After two intense weeks of FaceTime sessions between her, Maven, and Gisa Barrow, she knew that Maven wasn't playing around when it came to interior design. He was here to win.

"Gisa was just telling me about how you were talking about me behind my back today."

Evangeline only smirked. She was half-expecting for her comments about Maven's subpar taste in living room arrangements to get back to him.

"You think that you're more sophisticated than me," Maven commented, being overly-dramatic as usual. "Well, you're not. So bring it on, bitch."

So much for the Holy Trinity, then.

While it might have hardly been competition for them to furnish a suburban home for a bunch of cheapskates, Evangeline nodded. "It's on, bitch."


	5. The Real Way to Grocery Shop

Ella, Tyton, and Rafe quickly realized what to do with their grocery list.

As _the_ social media influencers of Twenty-Nineteen, the TikTok trio had done what any rational trio might do if faced with the mundane and awful task of purchasing groceries.

Ella, Tyton, and Rafe made grocery shopping into an insane TikTok-worthy competition that was bound to become a trend.

They sent out a Tweet to their thirty-million loyal fans. The first ten locals who responded—it took all of five seconds, by the way—were privately invited to none other than the brand-new home of Mare Barrow to face the biggest challenge of their teenage lives.

The challenge? To take one-tenth of the Barrow's grocery list, along with one miscellaneous item, such as a Tyton Jesper signature bobblehead or a seven-hundred-and-fifty piece jigsaw puzzle of the Manhattan skyline, go out, and come back with the proper things. The first to return with their share of the groceries and the miscellaneous item would win the prize of their lives: the chance to be in a TikTok dance video with Ella, Tyton, and Rafe.

From there, Tyton started the live stream, hoping that somehow, Mare wouldn't find out about it.

Perhaps the route that the three were taking was low, but it wasn't like Ella, Tyton, and Rafe could go much of anywhere without getting mobbed. Rafe scoffed as he raided the various cabinets of the kitchen, finding next-to-nothing inside. He supposed that Missus Barrow had only bought everything she needed to cook a few meals before she expected _somebody_ to go grocery shopping.

But how dare she make him buy groceries in the middle of a snowstorm.

"And that," he told his camera as Ella pointed it towards him, probably overselling the whole ordeal, "is how you buy groceries, my people."


	6. One Fancy-Ass Vacuum

Ruth kept her eyes carefully pinned upon the Holy Trinity's shopping list as she sat in the passenger side of Farley's scarlet F-150. With a smooth stop, the truck glided into one of the last parking spots available at Target just a few minutes before six o'clock.

She and her son's fiancée were going to need more than two shopping carts. The list went on and on, going from the basics of toasters, coffee pots, and vacuums to griddles, waffle presses, and air fryers. Another column featured countless kitchen tools that she had never heard of and luxury pot and pan sets that Gisa had already researched, finding that they'd be on sale today.

The situation that the ex-Scarlet Street Fighter and mother of five found themselves in was equally awkward on both ends. Silently, they supposed that they had been put together to balance one another out. Farley, despite being three months pregnant, was as fierce, intimidating, and cunning as ever, while Ruth Barrow just needed a fresh start with her kitchen and was too polite to be a real Black Friday contender.

When Ruth Barrow at last peeled her eyes away from the list, she took note of a couple of things. First off, Farley had not parked in the back-forty of the Target parking lot as she had expected her to. Somehow, she had snagged a spot at the very front of the chaos, just across from the red entrance doors. It took Ruth another moment to notice that the spot was a handicap spot, but just as she was about to say something, Farley pulled out one of those blue permits and stuck it on her rearview mirror.

Perhaps she would've scolded her son's fiancée if she wasn't pregnant, but more importantly, Ruth's eyes went a little wide at what she saw before the doors. Through blowing snow that had been going hard through the night—it had delayed Maven's flight, that poor baby—hundreds had filed into a line that extended all the way down the storefront and snaked around the corner. Aside from what her sons and Cal would face at Best Buy, Ruth knew she was competing with the scariest Black Friday shoppers around.

Not to mention they were New Yorkers.

The Target workers had put up barricades to keep people from cutting, but with the fake handicap permit Farley had pulled out, Ruth had a feeling that she and Diana Farley wouldn't be playing by the rules.

"Let's get going, Missus Barrow."

Ruth, still unsure of what to make of Farley, decided in that moment that if she wanted to survive this morning, she had to have a powerful ally at her side. "Please," she told Diana. "Call me Ruth."

<<<>>>

The deals, along with the people, were insane.

Farley had the strange intuition that what was happening now was the wildest moment of Ruth Barrow's life.

The Target's aisles were teeming with crazed shoppers, half of them prepared to turn their red carts into weapons at a moment's notice. Boxes containing gadgets were tossed into carts at the speed of light, and carts tugged by overzealous housewives whipped around corners. Carts collided, and people, on occasion, collided as well. A din of screams and shouts permeated the air, making it thick with the noise of commercialism over the faint Christmas music that played.

At least, Farley thought with a touch of dark humor, she didn't have to brave Best Buy with the Barrow boys and Cal.

Farley, having spent the last five years living the mirror-opposite of this suburban nightmare, was not a little bit disgusted at the sight she saw. After pushing through the barricades to the dismay of more than one red-shirted worker—Target's security just wasn't a match for Diana Farley, and besides, she was pregnant, so rules didn't apply—she and Ruth Barrow faced down a hurricane of deal frenzied-shoppers who spread out through the store as though they were an army raiding a kingdom.

The kingdom just happened to be a Super Target.

Beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, she watched as humankind revealed its true colors.

The kitchen section, Ruth and Farley quickly realized, was among the worst parts of Target.

The two had only begun to make a dent in their shopping list. A four-slice toaster, one of those Nutri Ninja blenders, a Keurig, and one fancy pot and pan set had made it into their two carts.

Farley's eyes frantically scanned the kitchen gadget-filled thoroughfare that she sailed down, half-expecting for some deranged shopper to launch themselves at her and her kitchenware. Farley would be having none of that. The pot and pan set was seventy-percent off, after all.

"I want that one," Ruth said, flinging a hand towards the aisle that ran perpendicular to them.

Farley looked onward, assessing what Ruth saw. In front of them awaited a lengthy display of vacuums, ranging from those old, clunky steamers to the new wireless machines. Ruth pointed at a one near the aisle's end, and though Farley had never vacuumed a floor in her life nor ever intended to, she had to admit that she liked it too. It was sleek and red, wearing a slim design.

"Cords are a bitch," Ruth continued. Farley worried that her language had been rubbing off on Shade's mom.

Still, Farley grinned. "Hell yeah they are. Your sons will put it to good work, too."

The two women shared a laugh in the middle of the aisle.

But the laugh quickly faded as Ruth and Farley took note of the woman barreling down that same aisle, eyes pinned on the exact same vacuum that Missus Barrow was admiring in the most loving of ways. A big fat sale tag was pinned to the shelf, and beneath the display, Farley realized that only one sleek red vacuum was left.

"No," she whispered.

She looked frantically at Ruth, who wore a similarly panicked expression.

"I'll fight her off," Farley whispered, hoping that her companion would hear her. "You grab the vacuum."

And just like that, Farley was charging forward with her cart, all six feet of her matching the other woman step for step. Ruth was right behind her, apparently deciding that she needed that vacuum more than the suburban bitch who was beelining towards it with a stupidly smug expression.

The dingy tiles of the Super Target blurred beneath her feet, and for the first time that morning, Farley understood the bloodthirsty rush of Black Friday.

Another three seconds passed, and Farley's cart was careening into the suburban bitch's, who up-close, had curled blond hair and a gaudy amount of mascara over her eyelashes.

"What the—"

Ruth came in from behind, dragging the last box from the shelf and throwing it into her cart with an amount of strength that Farley hadn't thought the five-foot-two woman possessed.

The impact sent the woman flying towards the ground, and as soon as Farley knew that the woman hadn't hit her head, she began to turn away.

Ruth, on the other hand, had a different idea.

With the woman down, Ruth took a quick gander at the woman's cart, and before anybody could protest, she hauled the teal KitchenAid mixer right out of it and into her own.

Farley looked at Ruth Barrow with all of the pride in the world, ready to give her a high five. Ruth grinned back at her.

But then the suburban woman began shrieking.

"We should probably leave," Farley said, already turning her cart towards the checkout.


	7. Flat-Screens and Lingerie

As three muscular guys all over six feet fall, Bree, Tramy, and Cal had little to be afraid of in Best Buy.

Or so they thought.

The shoppers in there had no morals, no restraint. Displays of TVs toppled, people ran rampant through the aisles, and the security scanning gates went off every five minutes. It still eluded Cal why, if you were planning on shoplifting anyway, it mattered that you do it on Black Friday.

The Barrow brothers and their sister's boyfriend had so far managed to snag three out of the five flatscreens they were assigned to buy, along with an iPad for Ruth Barrow and an Xbox that Bree and Tramy would put to good use. That left two TVs, a Mac for the family, a sound system, two printers, a washer and dryer, and—

Cal didn't want to think about it. With Mare's brothers constantly badgering him about the _nature_ of his relationship with their sister, their frequent mentions of welding bars to Mare's bedroom window, and the general distractedness of the day, Cal's team had no chance of winning.

"So Cal," Bree said, returning from a counter with Tramy where they had just scored a Mac and two MacBooks. Cal, in spite of being the son of a billionaire, was beginning to think that his father had given Mare too much money. This day was getting out of control, and he could hardly imagine what was going on with the Holy Trinity at the Ashley Furniture Homestore. "I'm supposed to ask you a question."

Cal, wearing his usual plain jeans, T-shirt, and the leather jacket he wore when he rode his motorcycle, tried to stand a little taller as the Barrow brothers approached him. It still confounded Cal how his girlfriend, at five-foot-two, had brothers that were just as tall as him

The twin conniving smiles that Bree and Tramy wore didn't help.

As Tramy dumped the packages into the three carts that Cal was guarding, Bree showed Cal a particularly incriminating photo on his cell phone. "Mare just texted me, and she's wondering if you like it. I guess they're having a great sale at Victoria's Secret today."

Cal stared down a magnificent photo of women's lingerie, and no matter how hard he tried, his mind went straight to imagining Mare in the scarlet lace on the phone in front him. Not that she looked bad in anything, but her curves and ass would look just perfect in that magnificent—

 _My colors_ , Cal thought. _She's trying to kill me_.

Still, Cal was very intrigued by what Mare was doing at Victoria's Secret.

He also decided that he would have to get away from Bree and Tramy long enough to text Mare that he definitely thought she should buy it.

Though he had nothing in his throat, Cal swallowed anyway before looking a vengeful Bree Barrow straight in the eyes. "I don't know why she would be asking my opinion about nightwear, Bree."

Tramy shook his head. "That's not nightwear, Cal."

Cal blinked, trying and failing to play dumb. "Well, then you tell your sister that I have no interest in seeing her in that sort of outfit. That would be highly inappropriate. I prefer when she wears sweatshirts and sweatpants."

In truth, Cal had seen Mare in outfits far skimpier than the one on the screen.

Tramy narrowed his eyes. "Are you telling our sister how to dress, Cal? Because we live in the twenty-first century, and that's sexist, you know."

Bree started muttering as he turned his phone back to himself. " _Cal says you would look disgusting . . . sexist jerk . . . break up with him."_

Cal sighed, remembering, at least, that Mare's mom liked him. Shade and Gisa didn't hate him either.

Bree and Tramy, however, along with Daniel Barrow, had made it clear enough to Cal what would happen if he made one false move. Over the weeks, the three of them had made countless jokes about poisoning Cal, convincing Mare to cheat on Cal, and running Cal's motorcycle off the Brooklyn Bridge. Cal was beginning to think that he should start checking his brake line every time he left the Barrow house.

Whoever had put him on a team with Bree and Tramy most likely wanted to see Cal dead. His money was on Evangeline, but it just as easily could've been somebody else.

Bree gave Cal a good ol' slap on the back. "Come on, Cal. Let's go look at printers."


	8. Ground Zero

The warm lights of Ashley Furniture Homestore beckon in the throes of the snowstorm.

Through whipping snow that sneaks under my coat, my teeth chatter as I make my way through the parking lot with Shade and Iris. The sky's a bleak grey, and I can barely see anything in front of me. The wind and snow have been going all night, and it's hardly a wonder that Maven and Thomas's flight last night got delayed.

The first snow of the year decided to come before the Barrows even had the chance to buy shovels.

Kilorn, meanwhile, has plans to use all of his savings to buy a riding snowblower.

"Are we sure we want to do this?" I ask, stuffing my hands into my coat pockets.

"Absolutely not." Shade scoffs, knowing as well as I what awaits us inside.

We spent the morning wandering through one of the local malls to buy some Christmas gifts for the family—Shade and I got some coffee cups for Mom, cute pajamas for Gee, and a whole lot of flannel shirts for Dad, Bree, and Tramy. In comparison to what we're putting our friends through, the three of us have enjoyed a slow, peaceful day full of hot chocolate, warm food, and the occasional purchase.

The highlight of my day was sneaking away from my companions to do some shopping of my own at Victoria's Secret, where I bought some clothing that Cal, despite what Bree told me over text, will be drooling over soon enough. I smirk at the thought of the red lingerie that I have carefully concealed inside of the bag that also contains my brothers' flannels.

Iris sighs, bringing me back to the present as the automatic doors swish open to Ashley Furniture Homestore.

Ashley Furniture Homestore, otherwise known as Ground Zero.

A warm, domesticated commotion of furniture and home decor greets me. Walls are erected around the store, leading from one faux room to another, each of a completely different theme. It seems like the kind of suburban, middle-class kind-of-thing that Maven and Evangeline would hate.

Plush cream-colored couches decorated with patterned pillows, wooden end tables, rich-colored rugs, and a plethora of wall art come before my eyes at the store's entrance. Not far off awaits a dining room with China cabinets, chandeliers, and fake plants, and little further rests a pair of bedrooms. One wears checkered wallpaper, and the other displays regal pastel pink paint.

As we walk a little further in, I nearly miss another display living room tucked into the store's corner. Upon its couch and chairs lounge Elane, Kilorn, and Cameron.

"Turn back while you can," Cameron hisses, pulling at her own hair.

I told Maven over the phone last night that the Holy Trinity would manage without him. Instead, he booked an overnight flight that would ensure he'd get to JFK by dawn.

"Why don't you go make yourself useful, Gisa, and pick out the mattresses?"

Maven's shrill, crazed, and judgemental voice rings out through the store. A nearby employee, apparently having already met him, quite literally flinches. Some of the other patrons of the store smile and cringe to themselves.

I try not to wonder for how many hours this madness has been going on.

<<<>>>

Too deep in to turn around now, I follow Maven Calore's voice around two walls before I find him, my sister, Evangeline, five-store employees, and a dirty-blonde who can only be Thomas surrounding a sectional sofa.

Among piles of furniture, lamps, paintings and mirrors, and more rugs, I find a scene of absolute chaos.

The five workers are shifting on their feet uncomfortably while Evangeline, Gisa, and Maven hold court on the opposite side of the couch.

"Please, Maven," Evangeline hisses. "You live out there with those hippies now. California's snatched away the little taste you had."

Maven, incensed, flares his nostrils. "At least I saved you from buying mass-produced wall art. How far have you fallen, Evangeline Samos?"

Deciding that we'd rather not be seen by the Holy Trinity, Iris, Shade, and I shuffle over to where Thomas sits near the workers. Absorbed in something on his phone, he doesn't notice me until I sit down next to him and cross one leg over the other.

Looking up, Thomas gives me a weary grin. I immediately decide that he's a handsome young man, with his tousled blond hair, lean frame beneath his Stanford sweatshirt and ripped jeans, and bright green eyes that wear a bit of concern for every time he glances towards Maven. He has a soft, kind face that I have to think balances out Maven well. "You must be Mare," he tells me after a moment, extending a hand in greeting.

I shake it. "I am. And you're Thomas, the guy who's going to keep Maven from going insane at Stanford."

"That's the goal," Thomas agrees. "Though I'm more concerned about today than his four years at college, actually."

Thomas proceeds to tell me about how Gisa and Maven managed to agree on a dining table and chairs and a single couch for the smaller of our two living rooms. Decisions on bar stools, bed frames, and bookcases came slower, but they indeed came. Evangeline and Elane, taking the reins on their team's decisions once they realized that Kilorn and Cameron would be of no help, finished shopping for their own list of curtains, rugs, wall art, and home decor hours ago.

Initially, Evangeline had planned to help Maven and Gisa, seeing how close they were to snapping at one another. But once she began hurling insults at Maven's aesthetic eye, it fell apart. The Holy Trinity, despite planning this for weeks, can't agree on anything. They haven't bought the mattresses, most of the living furniture, or any of the bedroom furniture.

In the midst of Thomas's explanation, Maven turns his sophisticated rage on one of the employees. "Do you know who I am, sir?"

The employee slowly shakes his head, so as not to anger Maven, who's clearly one poorly-made joke away from snapping altogether. I don't know how Maven managed to lure five employees into his grasp, but now that they're here, they're not escaping from him or his interior design tyranny. For all I know, they'll be spending the night upon the chairs and couches, begging and pleading with the younger Calore to decide on a sectional sofa.

"I'm Maven Calore," Maven starts rather arrogantly. "My father could buy this entire corporation if he wanted. He ought to, actually, considering the owner's disgusting taste."

And there Maven goes, insulting the CEO of Ashley Furniture Homestore.

"You all think that you know so much about home design, but you don't," Maven continues. "If you did, you wouldn't be working at a chain furniture store. Now. Let me explain to you the theme of the living room again."

Maven, noticing that I'm here and the smirk that I wear, sends an icy glare in my direction. It melts after a moment.

He grins, forgetting everything that's happened between us. "Hi, Mare."

I return the smile. "Hi, Maven."

"It's my house," I hear Gee snip to Evangeline in an aside.

Evangeline snips right back at her that it's a miracle anybody buys my sister's clothes.

I sigh, settling back into the couch. If I thought it'd be worth it, I'd try to intervene and make three understand that they're on a clock here. The storewide sale doesn't last all year.

Instead, I turn to Thomas. "Let's go look at mattresses."


	9. To Build a Home

"What's up, bitches?"

Mom's familiar voice flows through the house, and everybody inside does a double-take.

But no. It is in fact Mom.

A moment later, she and Farley come strolling into the kitchen pushing Target carts piled high with small kitchen appliances. With a closer look at the carts, I see a fancy-ass vacuum, a Roomba, and a very nice knife set.

Shade looks at his mother quizzically. "You know you're not supposed to take carts from the store, right Mom?"

Mom brushes him off. "Don't be such a wet blanket, Shade."

And then she and Farley are turning around, mentioning that they have more to bring in.

Julian, Carmadon, Davidson, and Sara look on from their familiar places at the window seat, sensing unlikely competition in Farley and my mom. Up until the duo had come in, the quartet's Black Friday haul had been by-far the most impressive between their Bed Bath and Beyond, Barnes and Noble, and Kohl's purchases.

Meanwhile, Ella, Tyton, and Rafe are arguing to Shade why, in spite of cheating, they shouldn't be disqualified from the contest.

"You honestly expected us to go grocery shopping? In a store?" Rafe groans. Twenty grocery bags litter the center island in the kitchen, and Ella, Tyton, and Rafe are currently bent over them, trying to figure out where everything should go in the empty cabinets. "Besides. We've created a new sensation."

Sitting on the kitchen counter, I roll my eyes. There were far too many screaming teenagers in the driveway when I got home, throwing themselves at the TikTok trio and yelling tearful goodbyes. It was the strangest sight I had ever seen. "Nobody forced you to be part of the competition."

Nobody has the heart to tell them that they were never part of the contest anyway.

Bree, Tramy, and Cal, meanwhile, have also returned from Best Buy with a suspicious number of flat-screen TVs, computers, an iPad for Mom, and a thousand other things.

"Put your legs into it, brother," Maven calls from beside me as we watch Bree, Tramy, and Cal emerge from the entryway, hauling a gigantic frontloading washer between them.

Yes. Somehow, the three boys managed to get five flatscreens, a washer and a dryer, and several other boxes containing goods from Best Buy inside of Tramy's old rickety pickup truck.

"I am putting my legs into it," Cal growls as he passes by us, walking backward with his dancer's grace. The laundry room is down a hallway past our main living room, and I suppose it's the furthest room from the driveway in our house.

"No need to get aggressive, Cal," Bree comments, grinning as he purposely shifts some of the washer's weight out of his hands and into Cal's. Bree and Tramy are having the time of their lives forcing Cal to haul heavy objects through our snowed-in driveway and up and down stairs. The three could've taken one of our side doors to get to the laundry room in half the time, but I don't have the heart to tell my boyfriend that. "Oh, and after we get the dryer, we should go help the Ashley Furniture Homestore delivery men. They'll be here soon. It's cold outside, and we don't want them to be out there forever."

Just before he vanishes around the hallway, Cal gives me a pleading look. Bree and Tramy chuckle, happy to see how close they are to breaking him.

Maven, sipping at the bottle of red wine that was on our grocery list, swallows a mouthful back before looking at me. "I'm going to have to be roaringly drunk for when the delivery men start trying to arrange my furniture."

Thomas, on the other side of Maven, chuckles. "Those tasteless imbeciles, right, Maven?"

Along with the delivery men, Maven will have Gisa and Evangeline to contend with. The two are already all over the place, going from one room to the next with their fancy clipboards as they make their final assessments

Thomas's laugh seems to have a soothing effect on my old dance partner, because Maven lets his shoulders droop and leans his head on Thomas's own shoulder.

I have to say that I ship it.

In the end, Thomas and I managed to pull together the madness that was Ashley Furniture Homestore. We had to do a little sneaking around, considering that Maven would've gone ballistic had he found out that we were buying things without his permission, but we indeed managed. Between the two of us, we picked out the mattresses and bed frames, drawers and desks, and closet shelves and vanities. While neither of us has much of an eye for interior design, Thomas and I both enjoy good deals, and it would've been a tragedy for Maven's tyranny to get in the way of that.

We figure we'll be safe from the Holy Trinity's wrath for about five more minutes until the delivery men start hauling in things they never approved of.

Maven, Evangeline, and Gisa also managed to get their shit together and pick out a sectional and a few more pieces of living room furniture.

"They're going to regret banning me," Maven mutters to Thomas, taking another chug of his wine.

Maven's use of intimidation tactics to get the furniture delivered tonight was the last straw for the store manager. He has since been banned from all Ashley Furniture Homestores in the United States and Canada.

Thomas grins at his boyfriend. "I'm sure they will."

<<<>>>

Iris and Shade sit at the breakfast table just outside of the kitchen, atop our brand-new chairs straight from Ashley Furniture Homestore.

In front of them lie over a dozen receipts, which they've separated into careful piles. They have their phones out, and Iris has on a pair of reading glasses as she hunches over Farley and Mom's Target receipt.

Over the course of twelve hours, our house has gone from being ghostly empty to a complete and utter mess.

Julian, Carmadon, Davidson, and Sara's haul waits to be sorted through in the entryway. Several Barnes and Noble bags, mostly filled with historical and philosophical texts, stack one on top of another. Six comforter sets, along with an embarrassing number of pillows, wait nearby to be brought upstairs. More bags filled with towels, bathroom rugs, and shower curtains have ended up in the adjacent dining room, and others contain cups and plates and bowls.

Carmadon, with perhaps too much excitement, brought one of his buffalo plates to show me. He took a special trip back to Bed Bath and Beyond to buy a couple. Even if Maven sneered at them, I like them. They're red and orange, like a fiery sunset, with herds of buffalo roaming through prairies.

Mom and Farley are trying to make sense of their new kitchen appliances, and the island, the food now shoved away in the fridge and pantries, is cluttered with box after box of kitchen gadgets.

Five TV boxes wait around in our living room, waiting to be opened and mounted. All of the other junk from Best Buy waits alongside the big windows in our living room. The washer and dryer, thankfully, are all set up in the laundry room.

The Ashley Furniture Homestore delivery men, four in total between the two massive delivery trucks on our street, traipse back and forth through our house, hauling in couch after chair and mattress after bed frame. At first, I think, hearing about Maven, they were scared to come to this house at all, but instead they found an exhausted, tipsy boy sprawled across the floor in Thomas's arms. Between flying overnight from San Francisco to JFK and the most intense shopping experience of his life, Maven's finally acquiesced and given into sleep.

Gisa and Evangeline are still bickering over furniture placement, though, and I've seen more than one delivery man flinch at Evangeline and her acrylic nails.

"Ah-ha!"

Iris raises a hand in the air, pulling off her reading glasses.

The room pauses.

Bree and Tramy, who are currently berating Cal over something or other as they haul in a mattress from outside, pause in the living room. Evangeline and Elane, watching as two of the delivery men assemble our dinner table, peak out from the dining room. Mom and Farley, giggling in the kitchen, snap up their heads like birds of prey. Julian, Carmadon, Davidson, and Sara look on interestedly.

Maven, asleep, goes about his business. Thomas and Gisa, knowing there's no possible chance their team won when Maven didn't look at a single price tag, avert their gazes to the floor. Kilorn and Cameron, equally uninterested, retreat outside to help unload some of the furniture. Ella, Tyton, and Rafe return to looking at their phones.

Iris pauses to confer with Shade, and a moment, later, Shade nods.

"Congratulations to Mom and Diana, who got the best deals and saved the most money proportionate to how much they spent today," Shade announces gleefully, turning his attention towards Mom and Farley.

The two waste no time in giving one another the most crazed, violent high-five I've ever seen.

Mom, quickly regretting it, presses her palm to the counter and hisses.

How they became best friends today, I don't know.

The rest of the room groans, half-expecting it given how the two have been acting this evening.

Once the sounds die down, Farley comes around the kitchen island and puts a hand on Shade's shoulder. "So what's the grand prize?"

Shade gives Farley an uneasy smile. "Well, we kind of assumed that Julian's team would win today, so we got you a hundred-dollar Barnes and Noble gift card."

Mom comes over, a toaster box she's in the process of ripping open in hand. She beams at Farley. "Sounds good to me," she says.

Farley, unexpectedly, nods. "Yeah. Ruth and I are going to start cooking together anyway. We can buy a few cookbooks there."

Shade, unnerved by how close Mom's become with Diana in the past day, only makes a face. "Can I cook with you guys too?"

The two women just laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, Shade," Farley says. "You don't know how to cook."

<<<>>>

"I'm proud of you, babe," I murmur to Cal, sitting on his lap in one of my family's many new chairs. My arms go around his neck, and his encircle my waist as I lean a little closer towards him. The fireplace is near, and I can't imagine how it's cold outside when we're together like this. "You survived an entire day with my big brothers."

Bree and Tramy, thankfully, are preoccupied downstairs putting together my bed frame. If they weren't, they'd be very careful to keep me and Cal in separate rooms at all times.

With Mom in the kitchen and Dad chattering it up with Shade, nobody seems to care that I'm right on top of Cal and whispering things into his ears. The rest of our friends are lounging around on our sectional sofa, couches, and chairs, eating the final pieces of Ruth Barrow's legendary blueberry pie. Maven, now fully-conscious and disappointed that he let his guard down, is staring around our half-furnished living room in discontent as Thomas tries to shove pie in his mouth.

In his final task of the night, Cal helped mount our seventy-five-inch TV over our fireplace. Bree and Tramy have since let him take a break, and I feel the fruits of Cal's labor in his damp sweatshirt.

I gaze around our living room, its hardwood floor made of walnut. It's a warm place, with yellow-orange lamps on end tables, blankets slung across the backs of couches, and a red and orange rug, like the sunset and like Carmadon's special plates, at the center.

The wind and snow continue to whip outside through our big windows in the now-dark night air. An expensive backyard that I could've run through yesterday is currently covered with a foot and counting of snow, and I worry that Cal's not going to be able to drive back to Manhattan tonight. The fireplace and the Mets blanket that we're under are far too nice to leave anyway.

"You should've seen them," Cal mutters in return. "They harassed me for hours at Best Buy, and then they dragged me to Lowes to buy metals bars. They're welding them over your windows tomorrow."

I contain my full-blown laugh so that it's only a dark snicker. "We're going to have to find creative ways to get you into my bedroom, aren't we?" I ask, dipping my finger into the filling of my slice of pie.

Before Cal might object, I put that same finger to his mouth. His tongue licks the blueberries and sugar from it, and Cal's smile turns into a nasty grin.

"You're dangerous for me, Mare," Cal returns, even as he tugs me a little closer. "Now," he whispers huskily, getting a little too close when a dozen people are nearby. "When am I going to see that cute little red dress of yours?"

I laugh against his chest. I'd hardly consider it a dress, but I suppose that's the best thing we can call it. "Soon," I promise, teasing him with my loose date. "I'm very proud of myself. It was fifty-percent off."

"I bet you are," he agrees, probably thinking of the little stunt I pulled with brothers and my text message. My hand goes to the pie again. "I'd prefer it one-hundred-percent off, though."

I smile against him. "That's a terrible way to run a business, Cal."

Just as Cal's about to rebuke with something new, falling into that pattern of ours that was once strictly mocking and arguing, Bree speaks up from the kitchen, having come up the backstairs.

"Shade! You bought us flannel!"

Shade mutters something about how those are supposed to be for Christmas, but with a glance over my shoulder, I see that Bree's sifting through the bag of Dad's and my brothers' flannel that Shade and I bought today. I forgot to put it away.

More importantly, I forgot to take something out of it.

Just as I'm about to leap from Cal's lap and fling myself across the room, I watch as Bree's eyes go wide.

Slowly, he stands up from the bag he was kneeling over. His eyes connect with mine and then inevitably Cal's, whose lap I happen to be sitting upon. I don't forget how his hands are around my waist, dangerously close to my butt, even when we're under a blanket.

Bree, a flimsy piece of lingerie dangling in his hand, tilts his head at Cal.

"Tramy," he calls, projecting his voice downstairs to where Tramy must still be working on my bed.

"Yeah?" I hear Tramy's voice spiral up the stairs.

Bree smirks, a dog ready to strike. "We have a problem with Mare's boy down here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope ya'll enjoyed it; I'll leave the cliffhanger up to your imagination, though I'm sure it involves Cal getting thrown into a snowbank or being chased down by Bree and Tramy and some baseball bats. Note that the title of this chapter is based on the song, "To Build a Home" by The Cinematic Orchestra. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, do leave a review and let me know what sort of one-shots you'd like to see at the new Barrow house.


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